Hand
by Gengario
Summary: I bought a used copy of Super Smash Bros. online. Now I'm in a mental hospital. Here's what happened.


I've never told anyone this story before. My therapist, when I refused to tell him what's troubling me, suggested that I write it down anonymously to try to get it out of my system. Maybe he's right. I have a burning urge to tell someone about this, but there's no way anyone would believe me – they'd think I'm lying, or crazy, or hallucinating. I have never been diagnosed with a mental disorder. I have never taken any drugs – hell, I rarely even drink. I would swear on my life that everything below is 100% true. To keep it anonymous, all names have been changed.

It all started with boredom, loneliness, and nostalgia. It was my first summer home from college, and none of the "friends" I made in college seemed all that interested in talking to me. I was getting depressed, and I didn't have much to do. After a few weeks of this, I decided that a little trip down memory lane might make me feel better. The original Super Smash Bros. was one of my favorite games before my brother sold it – and a bunch of other games – to get enough money to buy a Gamecube. That was a long time ago, and I hadn't played the game since. I found a used copy for sale online and ordered it.

A week later, it came in the mail. I was excited at first, but a little worried when I realized the cartridge had no sticker or label. It was just a blank cartridge. The seller hadn't mentioned that. No matter as long as it works, right? And, despite my worry, it _did_ work. I played it on my old N64 console and it was perfect. Everything was exactly as I remembered. There's nothing quite like the feeling that comes with playing a game you haven't played since you were a child. As I went through the 1-player mode with Pikachu, the memories came flooding back to me. Though rusty at first, after only a couple levels I was as good as ever.

When I made it to Master Hand, things started to get weird.

I couldn't get near Master Hand. Whenever Pikachu got within a certain distance, he'd turn and run in the other direction, regardless of what I was doing on the controller. If I faced Master Hand and pressed an attack button, instead of attacking, Pikachu would turn around and do nothing. Meanwhile, Master Hand wasn't attacking. He was just floating there, as if watching Pikachu struggle amused him. I was annoyed that what had seemed like such a flawless cartridge was acting so glitchy. After a minute or two, Master Hand made a fist and smashed Pikachu over and over. It went on way too long. And despite accumulating a lot of damage, Pikachu never flew off of the screen. When the attack was over, Pikachu just lay there. I couldn't control him. He also looked different, which at first I thought I might be imagining. But I couldn't deny it after what happened next: Master Hand picked Pikachu up with his thumb and forefinger and just let him dangle by his neck. Yes, Pikachu was definitely different. He was… flatter. His eyes were cartoonish X's. And there were little red specks all over his body. Master Hand laughed, and the screen went black. Instead of the usual Game Over screen, I just got a black screen with white text that said "I WIN".

I freaked out and immediately turned the console off. I took a minute to process what had just happened. Obviously, this game was a hack. A really well done, disturbing hack.

The shock was enough to keep me away from the game for a couple days. But curiosity got the better of me. I played through the single-player mode again, this time with Samus. To my disappointment, nothing happened – I beat Master Hand normally, and then the credits rolled. I tried it again with a few other characters, even Pikachu again – nothing. I was starting to wonder if I'd imagined things. Then I got to Master Hand with Link. Link refused to get near him, just like Pikachu that first time. I was actually excited; I'd been worried that this might not happen again. Eventually, Master Hand grabbed Link and just flung him off of the screen. Then he flipped me off – seriously, he faced the screen and stuck up his middle finger. Since I was expecting something darker, I found it hilarious. I tried to take a photo with my cellphone, but the scene didn't last long enough. This time, I was sent to a normal Game Over screen.

That night, I emailed the guy who sold the game to me, asking him three questions: 1. What's the deal with the lack of labels? 2. Did you notice anything strange about the single player mode? 3. Where did you get this game from? At no point did I ask for a refund. I didn't want one. I didn't even want a normal copy of Smash Bros.; I was excited to find out what secrets this hack held.

I got a response the next day:

_Hi, John!_

_For starters, I want to apologize for not showing a picture of the cartridge or mentioning the lack of label. I have no good excuse for that. I just didn't want people to judge a book by its cover, metaphorically speaking. Even without the label, the game worked perfectly. It's just that people might not believe that if they saw a picture of the cartridge. Again, I'm very sorry._

_I didn't notice anything unusual when I played the game. However, I didn't play the single player mode, I only battled against my brother and against computers. Is there something wrong with it? If there is then I totally understand why you might want a refund._

_This game was originally my older brother's. He won it in a Smash Bros. tournament a few years ago, the prize for 3__rd__ or 4__th__ place was a free copy. He didn't use it very much since he already had a copy._

_Hope that helps,_

_Dave_

I emailed him back to say that, although I didn't want a refund, this game was clearly a hack. I told him about the various things Master Hand had done. By then, even though only a day had passed, the list was longer – I'd been playing a lot.

Most of the time, nothing unusual happened. But that only made it more exciting when Master Hand did something weird. Once, he stabbed Link with his own sword. Another time, he waited until I made Kirby turn into a rock and then smashed him; pebbles flew everywhere, and then the pebbles un-transformed into little pink Kirby bits. My favorite, though, was when I thought I had beaten Master Hand normally and the game cut to the credits. Remember how in the original Smash Bros., you could point at the names in the credits, and you'd see a description of their role in a box in the upper-right-hand corner? Instead, this time, the box gave me information like "FUCK THIS GUY", "THIS ONE'S A DICK", "HAHA NOBODY LIKES HIM BECAUSE HE SMELLS", etc. I found it pretty amusing. I searched for hacked things in other parts of the game, but found nothing.

I tried to take a picture of one of the hacked screens, but somehow I never took out my cellphone in time. It always cut to the normal Game Over screen before I could do anything. Eventually I just gave up. Either I'd be believed or I wouldn't; it didn't matter.

Besides the seller, I only told one other person about the hack. One of my college friends was a gamer, so I sent him a text that said "oh man I got sold the weirdest hack of smash bros 64". His response: "thats cool". I was pissed. This was so exciting, and he didn't give a shit. Well, fuck him. I was having more fun with sadistic hack Master Hand than I ever had with him or with any of my other friends.

The seller emailed me back:

_Hi again, John!_

_Wow, that's really really weird! I had no idea that this copy was a hack, and neither did my brother. As luck would have it, my brother's still in contact with the tournament organizers. They had no idea it was a hack, either. Weird, right! They're trying to figure out where they got the game from. I'll keep you posted!_

_-Dave_

I thanked him, and told him about a few more things from the hack.

The days went by, or maybe weeks – I don't remember. I became obsessed. It seemed like Master Hand never did the same thing twice. The amount of work put into making this must've been incredible. One time, when the credits scrolled again, the text box didn't show production info or even insult the designers. Instead, it said things like "NEVER STOP PLAYING", "DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE", "NOBODY UNDERSTANDS ME LIKE YOU DO", "I'LL KILL YOU IF YOU STOP PLAYING". _That_ was unsettling. Of course, it was already obvious that whoever made this had a sick, sick mind.

Over time, the hack-specific events happened with increasing frequency. I got a couple pictures – one of the black "I WIN" screen, and one of a developer being labeled a "TURD NUGGET" in the credits. It was the best I could do, and I had no desire to try harder. I sent the photos in an email attachment to Dave, not caring much whether he believed me.

Sometime later, I got another email from him:

_Hello again!_

_Well, I can't say I expected any of this when I sold an old copy of a Nintendo 64 game. Your story has caused a lot of confusion and more than a little drama. It turns out that the tournament organizers got the game from a friend of theirs who works at Nintendo of America named Jim. They were angry that Jim hadn't told them it was a hack. Jim's story changed over time: first he insisted that it was a normal copy, then he insisted that he had, in fact, told them it was a hack. The guy who got it from Jim keeps changing his story, too. Jim himself says that he can't remember exactly how he got the game, which makes sense since it must've been like a decade ago that he got it. He thinks he recalls a source at Nintendo or HAL Laboratory, though. They're all trying to work it out. I think they're mad that they gave up something that sounds so unique. If they have any answers I'll be sure to send them along._

_What's even weirder is that some people are saying that they've played this copy, that they've played the single player campaign all the way through, and didn't encounter anything like what you described or like what your pictures showed. There's some grumbling that you made up the whole thing. I believe you, for what it's worth. Why would a buyer make up something like this if they aren't even going to ask for a refund?_

_I'll keep you posted,_

_Dave_

It made sense that the mysterious hacker had worked for Nintendo or HAL. The programming was _really_ good. Professional quality.

But it wasn't perfect. I played so much that I found ways to damage Master Hand when I wasn't "supposed" to. Just like any game, this hack had its exploits. It only worked with a few characters, and I had to do some very specific things with them.

But eventually, I managed to defeat Master Hand against his will.

The screen froze. Master Hand shook. First it was a slight vibration, but it got more and more violent. Then he just went crazy. He flailed all over the place, like he was having an intense seizure. What freaked me out, though, was that blood was spurting out of the opening of his glove. In _huge_ amounts. Oh, and he was screaming. It wasn't the typical, muffled scream from when you normally beat the game. It sounded like an actual grown man screaming and sobbing as if he was in the worst pain imaginable. Master Hand's blood splattered the screen until it was totally red. Then all noise stopped, and I was left with a red screen that wouldn't go away until I turned off the game.

That was too much for me. I vowed to stay away from that game from then on.

…Or that's what I thought. All it took was a couple days of pacing around my house and seeing my friends post photos on Facebook of events they hadn't bothered inviting me to. Normal video games were no longer an adequate escape. I needed Master Hand as much as he needed me.

I picked Smash Bros. back up. I went through one-player mode – with Pikachu – and Master Hand did the same thing he'd done when I first played this freaky game. In spite of the mangled Pikachu corpse, it felt like a heartwarming reunion. I should note that this is the only time Master Hand ever repeated an animation.

For a while I let Master Hand kill me however he liked. I felt bad for him, I guess, even though I knew he wasn't real. After a while of this, I got another modified credits. When I shot the names, the text in the box said things like "DON'T EVER KILL ME AGAIN", "I THOUGHT YOU WERE BETTER THAN THAT", "HOW DARE YOU", "BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN IF YOU KILL ME AGAIN".

This made my skin crawl more than anything that happed earlier. I actually said to myself out loud, "Dude, it's just a hack. Master Hand isn't real and can't do anything to me. In fact, I should kill him again just to prove how stupid it is to be scared about this."

I killed him again. I really wish I hadn't.

There was no dramatic shaking like last time. It all happened quickly. From the speakers, I heard a scream – a really angry scream. Master Hand clenched up into a fist. His fist flew toward the camera – that is, toward the screen. And then I heard a loud _thump_, and the screen went black.

The TV was off. I tried turning it back on. It didn't work. I looked closer at the screen. It was cracked.

I started crying. I don't know why, even now. Everything just felt wrong. I don't know how I worked up the courage to tell my parents that the TV was broken later on, but I was _not_ going to tell them about what happened before it broke. I just said the simple and obvious truth – that the TV had apparently broken on its own while I was playing video games. Amazingly, they believed me.

"Stranger things have happened," my dad told me. "I once had a television that, swear to God, caught _fire_ while I was watching it. Never figured out what the problem was there. Weird shit just happens."

Maybe he was right. Logically, I knew it must've been a coincidence. I wanted to believe that. I forced myself to believe it. Well, I forced myself to _think_ that I believed it.

The TV turned out to be unrepairable. While my parents searched for a new one, I looked up every name I could find involved in the production of Super Smash Bros. I focused especially on the localization team, since the messages were all in English. Still, no matter how obsessively I searched, I found no leads on who might be the source of this monstrosity.

We got a new TV. I ignored it for about a week. Every time I looked at my N64, and the blank cartridge in it, I got the worst chills of my life.

I couldn't stay away. It wasn't even depression or boredom this time. I just needed closure. That's what I told myself, anyway.

I was physically shaking when I turned the console on. I'm not sure I ever stopped shaking as Pikachu defeated Link, and then a bunch of Yoshis, and every other opponent thrown his way. It went by in a blur. Finally, I got to the game's final boss: Master Hand.

The battle began. Except Pikachu couldn't move in any direction. He couldn't do anything. He and Master Hand just stood there, staring at each other.

I started sobbing. In retrospect, I'd been really emotionally unstable ever since the TV broke, but now it came to a head. "I'm sorry," I said, tears rolling down my cheek. The logical part of my brain knew how stupid this was, but that part had no say right now. "I'm so sorry." I wanted to say more, but I was too scared and I was sobbing too hard.

Slowly, Master Hand floated to the middle of the screen. He pointed at me. Or I thought he was pointing at me. Actually, now that I looked harder, he was pointing just a little to my right. He jabbed his finger, like he really wanted me to see what he was pointing at. He was pointing to… the couch seat next to me? There was nothing on the cushion, though. What about… under it?

In a trance, I picked up the cushion. Underneath it was a white glove. It was stiff, as if a hand was still wearing it. And it was covered in blood. On the screen, Master Hand laughed.

What happened next is a blur. Apparently I destroyed our new TV. I also destroyed my N64 and the cartridge inside, although my parents took much less notice of that, for obvious reasons. I was apparently screaming so loudly that my mother came downstairs and found me wrecking her basement.

I mostly just remember being taken to the mental institute after that. Since I wasn't willing to talk about what had caused my sudden outburst, there wasn't much they could do. At least they had Internet. One day, while checking my email, I found this:

_Hello again, John!_

_It's been a while! I just wanted to let you know that my brother's friends think they've figured out where that cartridge you bought comes from. It almost definitely belonged to someone who worked at HAL Laboratory. There's one programmer in particular who they think they've pinned it down on, mostly because, as my brother said, "he just sounds crazy enough to be the guy." If you click on the link, you'll understand what he meant. Your cartridge sounds like it was made by someone pretty loopy, and this guy fits the bill. I don't know why a Japanese guy would make a hack in English, though, but I guess that's a more international language._

_Anyways, contact me again if you have any further questions!_

_-Dave_

Attached to the email was a link to a very old, very obscure Nintendo-themed message board. This was the first post of the thread:

_**Former HAL Laboratory Programmer Found Dead, Police Believe it was Suicide**_

_Well, this is… odd._

_This man, Katsu Oshiro, apparently was a programmer for Super Smash Bros. on the N64. His name isn't in the credits because he was fired less than halfway through development. According to the source, he was just found dead, having bled to death after both of his hands were cut off. Um… how does someone cut off _both_ of their own hands? Police think it was a suicide, but they're not discounting murder either. Then again, why would a murderer cut off both of someone's hands? The whole thing is weird no matter how you look at it._

_Here's a link, but it's in Japanese._

The link must've been to some Japenese news site, but it didn't work anymore. The thread only had one reply. But that reply was far more interesting than the original post. It was the replier's only post on the website. Here's what it said:

_Excuse me for any bad English, it is my second language._

_I perhaps knew Katsu Oshiro better than any other person, which is sad as I did not know him very well. He was quite reclusive. I am only posting here because there is so little being said about him now including in this forum, and I find that sad. He was a very interesting man and had more of an influence than people realize._

_I was also a HAL employee during the development of Super Smash Bros. It is what you might call an open secret at HAL that Mr. Oshiro was the inspiration for the character Master Hand. Mr. Oshiro wore white gloves every day for some reason. He had a collection of Nintendo action figures in his office that he would sometimes make fight each other. He also had what is known as (I hope this is the correct English term) Alien Hand Syndrome. At least I believe he had it, he never admitted this to me. He did admit that he had brain surgery when he was younger. His right hand was very twitchy much of the time, and would sometimes do strange things such as slap his face for no apparent reason (not very hard)._

_Mr. Oshiro was mentally unstable and would frequently have breakdowns. It was very uncomfortable. Most people, including myself, were afraid to go near him, although I tried to get past it since he seemed so lonely. His employers did not get past it. Due largely to his instability, he was fired just as production of Super Smash Bros. was speeding up. I felt bad for him and tried to stay friends with him._

_He was extremely bitter not only about his being fired, but also for not being named in the credits of Super Smash Bros. He was perhaps responsible for the plot of the entire game, and his name is never mentioned even in the credits! Mr. Sakurai never admitted how he got his inspiration and perhaps would be embarrassed to admit it. I heard less and less from Mr. Oshiro as time passed. I am sad to admit that when I heard of his death I was not surprised._

_There is some question about his death but knowing him, I am sure it was suicide. By the end he hated everyone, he hated the world, he had dark fantasies about the company that (in his view) betrayed him. His sanity was poor even before he got fired and it only got worse. I do not know how he cut off both his hands but I am sure he found a way, he was a bit of a mad genius if I am truthful. One thing that is rarely mentioned is the interesting fact that his hands were not only dismembered, they were never found. I find this fact more strange than the fact that he cut his hands off. Where would he have put them?_


End file.
